We'll Be There
by Ink Stained Quill
Summary: One-Shot. Random-ish title... "What, exactly, do you think you're doing?" she asked. "Well, I think," Sirius retorted, "I'm leaving. That seems to be the idea, what with the packed trunk and broomstick and all." "If you leave now, you are never coming back!" "Good riddance." And he slammed the door shut behind him. What happened the night Sirius left. Read and Review please


A/N: This is my first FanFiction, and I would really appreciate some constructive criticism, so no flames. Also, can someone please tell me how to do the dividers? I cant figure it out… Thank you

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Sirius was lying on his bed in the dark with his hands behind his head. He stared moodily at the ceiling. It was summer for crying out loud, the one season meant for having fun and a break from school. Yet Sirius was probably one of the few teens that waited agonizingly for the start of term, wanting to get away from this prison of a house.

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK!" a voice screeched from downstairs. "Get down here AT ONCE!"

Sirius contemplated just ignoring his mother altogether. _Nah, I might as well get it over with._

"How dare you play pranks on your cousins!" Walburga Black shrieked.

Sirius wanted to laugh. His horrible cousins had come over for dinner, and after the first course Sirius couldn't stand it any more. All the talk of pure blood elitism and persecution of muggle–borns and half–bloods was enough to make him sick. In his disgust, he had blurted out "It's wrong. This war is just wrong." The conversation had suddenly stopped as all eyes had turned on him incredulously. His father had shifted uncomfortably, his mother and Bellatrix had glared at him with anger and hatred on their faces, Regulus and Narcissa had stared wide–eyed not believing he'd just said that.

Walburga, not wanting him to embarrass the family anymore had sent him to his room, and Sirius had run gladly but not before sending a quick charm unnoticed under the table. Judging by the screams and angry voices, it had gone rather well.

He casually strolled into the dinner room and it took all his self-control to not laugh. He arranged his face into what he hoped was a puzzled expression.

"What happened?" he asked.

His mother's face was dark with rage. "Why don't you tell me?" she asked and her deadly quiet voice was filled with the promise of dire consequence. Sirius surveyed the scene and said, holding back a laugh,

"Well it seems to be a simple transfiguration and animation charm." The silverware had transformed into miniature lions that were now prowling the table, snapping and growling at the people seated. As they stalked around, they left small red paw prints on the plates, the table, napkins, clothing, everything. It was the perfect declaration of Gryffindor pride.

"Yes I can see that," his mother replied, "Now perhaps you could tell me, who did this?"

"Oh, I don't know," Sirius said shrugging, "Could be...dearest Bella." Bellatrix glared at him. "Or maybe little Reg." He winked at Regulus who was still sitting in open-mouthed shock.

Bellatrix, having had quite enough, transformed her plate into an impressive serpent black as night and shining green. It reared, ready to sink its venomous fangs into the lion before it, but the lion turned and pounced and ripped the snake to pieces. It swallowed the snake, made a whimpering sound, then turned and vomited the half chewed snake into Bellatrix's lap. She screamed in fury.

Walburga turned to her and was all the doting aunt. "Oh you poor dear," she said, fussing with Bellatrix's dress and cleaning it up with a flick of her wand. "Perhaps you had better take Narcissa back home now. Give my love to Druella."

Bellatrix flooed home, cursing all the while, followed by a shocked Narcissa. The whooshing flames died away to a ringing silence. Sirius turned and stalked upstairs to his room. Walburga followed him ranting,

"What is wrong with you? You are the pureblood heir to the most noble and ancient house of Black. The honor of this family rests on your shoulders and it's time you acted like it."

Sirius lost it. "What do you want me to do?" he thundered. "Act like you? An evil, twisted, prejudiced witch who can't see that you've picked the losing side? I hate this!" His voice broke a little. Evil as they were and as much as he hated them, they were still his family and Sirius had always nourished a childish hope that one day they would accept him like a real family. He ran into his room and slammed the door shut.

He threw himself onto his bed and buried his face in the pillow and, in the privacy of his bedroom where he didn't have to be the rebellious Black, uncaring and bottling up all his emotions, Sirius Black cried. His pillow was quickly soaked with the tears of loss he shed for his family and his naive hopes. His solitude did not last for long. Sirius flipped over his pillow to hide the signs of his weakness just as his father threw the door open and thundered into his room.

Orion Black, unlike his wife, was not prone to giving harsh punishments and having loud outbursts of anger. The cold, quiet disapproval that emanated from him was enough to make any wrongdoer cringe in terror and wish a physical punishment instead. However, he was a Black, and Blacks did not sit around when severe punishment was necessary and they certainly did not raise muggle–loving blood–traitors.

"Stand up," he commanded in his deep voice, with all the authority of a king. Sirius stood and glared resentfully at his father. "You are a Black. A pureblood prince. You should represent the epitome of our society. I have tolerated your being Sorted in Gryffindor house. I have tolerated your ridiculous pranks at school. I have even tolerated your friendship with the blood–traitor and the half–breed, but it is obvious that they have a negative influence." Sirius' blood boiled at this description of James and Remus. "Obviously I have been far too lenient. This has gone too –" Walburga burst in and drowned out her husband in her fury.

"How dare you speak to your mother that way?" she shrieked, her face red and her neat blond hair disheveled, giving her a maniacal look. "Your disgusting behavior brings shame on this house! You are my son, a pureblood and you will respect –" She stopped as she caught sight of her surroundings.

Sirius' parents rarely came into his room and therefore hadn't seen his latest display of defiance. In his second year, Sirius had hung up Gryffindor banners and scarves and had a model lion sitting above his chest of drawers. In order to add insult to injury, this summer, he had taken the liberty of hanging up posters of his dream motorbikes and, just because, some posters of muggle models in bikinis; all stuck with Permanant Sticking charms.

"What is that?" Walburga asked slowly, gesturing to his wall in disbelief.

"The motorbike I want to eventually get and some hot muggle birds," Sirius said, now beyond caring what his parents thought. Just to top it off, he gestured to one of the posters and said, "I'm dating that one."

This was evidently not the answer expected. Orion's face slowly drained of color while Walburga turned a dangerous shade of purple. She suddenly tuned on him, and Sirius was shocked by the amount of pure hatred in her eyes. No matter how much he had acted up before, she had never looked at him like this.

"YOU UNWORTHY MONGREL! HOW DARE YOU BISMIRCH THE NAME OF MY FATHERS!" Walburga screamed. "WE RAISED YOU SO YOU COULD MAKE US PROUD AND YOU REPAY US WITH BETRAYAL?!" She raised her wand and Sirius was terrified. "_Crucio!_"

Every part of his body was on fire. Sirius fell to the ground writhing, raw primeval screams being torn from his throat as white–hot blades of pain lanced through his body. Every bone felt like it was fracturing and every muscle slowly and agonizingly torn apart. He thought he heard someone trying to stop her, but it could have been his imagination. He didn't know how long the torture lasted, maybe minutes or maybe years; either way it was too long. He felt something hard and real hit his head and his vision, already hazy, went black as he passed out.

Sirius awoke on floor of his room, sore and disoriented. He tried to sit up but the movement sent pain shooting through his chest. One of his ribs had cracked and a massive bruise was present all down side where he had slammed into the armoire. His head was spinning and blood trickled from a gash above his eye from when he had cracked it on the foot of his bed and blacked out. Slowly, gingerly he pulled himself up so that he was sitting upright against the foot of the bed, his legs splayed out in front. The effort left him exhausted, panting and sweating.

The door opened a crack and Sirius involuntarily flinched, but it was only Regulus. Regulus slipped in, closed the door and hurried to Sirius. He pulled out a cloth, whispered_ Aguamenti_, and began mopping Sirius' brow. Sirius just stared at him, too amazed and too weak to protest. Besides, it felt good.

"Why do you do that?" Regulus asked.

"Do what?"

"Defy them. Why can't you just shut up and listen to Mum and Dad? Then none of this," he gestured to Sirius' broken body, "would ever happen."

Sirius sighed. Regulus was too naive to understand. He trusted his parents too much. "Because I don't agree with them. The muggle–borns and half–bloods are just as magical as we are. I'm friends with lots of them. I don't see why we have to persecute them."

Regulus shook his head stubbornly. "Keep the blood pure. Only the pureblood are the true wizards. It's what we've always been taught." He conjured bandages and began to bind Sirius' chest and head. Sirius let him work and tried to breathe evenly. Finally he asked,

"Do you really believe that? Do you really believe that everyone else should be killed? What about that brown–haired Ravenclaw girl in your year? I've seen you staring at her. She's a muggle–born. Or those Hufflepuff guys you are secretly friends with because you think they're funny? Two of them are muggle–born, one is a half, and the other is a blood–traitor. Should they all be killed?" Regulus' eyes grew wide and horrified. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, but think about what side you're on before it's too late."

Regulus stood up abruptly. He was shaking. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice quivering. "Mum and Dad are always right. Mudbloods and half–bloods aren't true wizards. You're wrong." He turned and ran out.

Sirius sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, Reg was a lost cause, too brainwashed by the pureblood elitism to see just how wrong it was. Footsteps outside signaled the end of his small amount of silent peace as Walbura stalked in. She surveyed his body from head to toe taking in the bandages and now blood free face.

"Regulus," she nodded at the bandages. "What a good boy he is. Always making sure not too much pure blood is spilt. A son I can be proud of." She strode up to him and grabbed him by the upper arm yanking him up sharply. Sirius nearly passed out again for the pain it sent through his chest. "I hope you've learnt your lesson," Walburga hissed. "After all, you wouldn't want to repeat this little episode again, would you?" He caught her unspoken message:_ one toe out of line and you'll __wish_ _it _was_ the Cruciatus Curse._ She threw him down on the floor and this time he really did pass out.

When Sirius woke up again, it was nearly midnight. He shuddered, remembering the events from the past evening. _I have to go. I have to leave. _He pulled out his school trunk and started throwing things in haphazardly, stopping every now and then to clutch at his chest. Clothes went in all tangled up in a messy bundle, his school textbooks, quills, parchment, his potions cauldron, which was shrunken to fit. After stripping his room bare and using an Undetectable Extension charm on his trunk, all he was left with was a cloak, his trunk, and a broomstick. He checked the Permanent Sticking charms on the wall hangings, making sure none would come down any time soon. _This'll_ _put a knot in their knickers._

He came out of his room, dragging his trunk down the stairs with loud scraping thumps. The door to the right of his opened and Regulus peeked out worriedly.

"Are you really going?" he asked quietly.

"What else can I do?" Sirius sighed.

"Stay. You can hide in my room and wait. They'll forget that they were mad by tomorrow and then everything will be okay again and –"

"Reg!" Sirius interrupted, "They've all but burnt my name off the tapestry. I'm labeled a blood–traitor. Do you honestly believe they'll forgive me?"

Regulus was silent, and though he knew the answer he said, "Please, don't go. Don't leave me alone." He was once again the little brother who would creep into Sirius' bed for comfort when he'd had a nightmare.

Sirius shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but there's nothing I can do. Goodbye." Regulus stared after him as he dragged his trunk down the rest of the way, breathing sharply as his cracked rib sent another jolt of pain ripping through him.

He reached the front door and stood there, leaning on the wall panting. Suddenly, he noticed his mother standing in a dark doorway, watching him. He straightened up and looked his mother coldly in the eye. Walburga came forward and gave Sirius an astonished look.

"What, _exactly_, do you think you're doing?" she asked.

"Well, I _think_," Sirius retorted, "I'm leaving. That seems to be the idea, what with the packed trunk and broomstick and all."

"If you leave now, you are _never_ coming back!"

"Good riddance." And he slammed the door shut behind him.

James Potter was fast asleep in his bed, dreaming of a certain fiery redhead, when his father's shout startled him up.

"Who's there?" Harrison Potter challenged, brandishing his wand at the front door. "If it's Death Eaters I swear, you will regret attacking my family." James shivered; it was clear why his father was the head of the Auror department. His father threw the door open and then shouted, "Have at you, you – Sirius?" He turned and yelled, "JAMES! CAMILLE! Come quick!"

James heart froze. His dad sounded panicked and Harrison Potter was rarely ever panicked. He threw himself down the banister and slid all the way to the doormat. He ran outside to find Sirius half dead on the porch, blood pooling around him. Him and his father gently lifted Sirius and carried him to the sitting room where they laid him on the couch.

James mother came rushing down, a robe hastily thrown on and her wand clutched in her hand. "Harry? Harry what's hap – SIRIUS! Oh my poor boy, what's happened to you?" She immediately began to strip him of his shirt and pants, conjuring bandages and wet cloths to bind up numerous bleeding wounds, hissing in anger at each injury. Being purebloods, both she and her husband knew Sirius' parents and disliked them immensely, so when James had befriended the black sheep of the family, they had practically adopted him as a second son. Finally, once she was done, they tucked the still unconscious Sirius into a bed. James collapsed into an armchair, refusing to leave until Sirius woke.

The Black family was gathered in the tapestry room. Cygnus and Orion stood solemnly to the side conversing in low tones. Druella, Walburga, and Bellatrix radiated fury as they stared angrily at the tapestry, muttering to each other. Narcissa and Regulus stood together in sad, silent shock. The last time they had all been gathered in this room was the night Andromeda had sent a letter home informing them of her marriage to Ted Tonks, a _Mudblood_.

Orion cleared his throat for attention and the room went silent. "Well," he said, almost unwillingly, "We might as well get it over with." He raised his wand and pointed it at the tapestry. There was a split second of silence before Walburga said,

"Wait." She strode forward. "_I _will be the one to do this." She pulled out her wand and took aim as Orion stepped back, secretly thankful. Blood traitor or not, Sirius was his first-born and he had a slight fatherly attachment to his child. _Maybe if I had shown him how much I loved him, he wouldn't have turned. _It was too late now. Walburga gazed at the portrait of her child, which seemed to be laughing at her, mocking her. She narrowed her eyes and all her pent up fury and outrage and betrayal was unleashed in a explosive jet of red fire. Sirius' name was obliterated, leaving only a charred black hole.

"Let this be a lesson to the rest of you," Druella said to the rest of the children who stood staring.

In the middle of the night, when his parents were asleep, Regulus tiptoed down to the tapestry room. He stared at the still-smoking hole next to his own name in a mixture of sadness, disgust, and anger. "I hate you," he whispered. "How could you leave me?" He ran out, slamming the door behind him with an awful finality.

Several hours later Sirius slowly awoke to find himself neatly tucked into a bed and _James Potter_ dozing by his bedside in a plushy armchair. He grinned and tried sitting up, but fell back wincing and gasping. James started awake.

"You're alive!" he exclaimed, giving him a relieved smile.

"Always the tone of surprise," Sirius grumbled.

James laughed then sobered almost immediately. "What happened? You came here looking like you were run over by a troll, half dead, bleeding everywhere. Gave me a heart attack."

Sirius frowned. "I don't want to talk about it." James raised an eyebrow and Sirius sighed. "Fine I lied. I _need_ to talk about it or I'll go mad."

So James sat, a multitude of emotions running through him as Sirius slowly related his story. When Sirius got to the part where he was tortured, James jumped up swearing, "That horrible old –" Sirius just glared at him until he sat down again and allowed him to finish.

"So I jumped on my broom and I came here."

"Why didn't you just take the knight bus?" James interrupted. "You really shouldn't have been flying in your condition."

"They're too scared to drive by. Last time my mother rode the Knight Bus, she almost hexed Ernie into the next year because she said the ride was too bumpy. Anyway, all I remember is passing out halfway here and falling. Then I woke up a while later with another whole load of injuries and some how made my way here."

James didn't know what to feel; pity for his friend, anger at his family, relief that he was safe now, happiness that he was here. And then, to his horror, loud, boisterous, invulnerable Sirius, started crying. Silent sobs wracked his frame and sent tears cascading down his face, which was turned away from James. James looked around frantically as though searching for something to tell him what to do, but stopped when Sirius haltingly choked out,

"Why me? Ever since I was little I hoped that one day they would understand me but they never did. And now we hate each other." His sobs had stopped and he faced James with a frighteningly calm face with only his eyes slightly red to show. "But that's just the problem isn't it? I wish I could hate them but I only hate their ideas and obsessions because at the end of the day they're my only family, and now all that's happened is I've lost them for good. I have no family."

James tried to think of something, anything, to say but everything just sound so wrong, so he sat silent. Sirius slowly slipped back into sleep. James got up to leave but just before he walked out, he turned and said,

"You didn't lose all of your family, Sirius. You still have three brothers and me, Moony, and Wormy will _always_ be there for you." As he walked out, he missed the small smile that played on Sirius' lips in his sleep.


End file.
